


Old (Probably) Cursed Wine

by Kimra



Category: The Mummy Series
Genre: Curses, Drinking, F/M, Fluff, Historic Cannibalism References, References to Drugs, Romance, Skeletons, Trapped, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-11 16:37:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21224447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimra/pseuds/Kimra
Summary: Rick and Evy get locked in a room during a dig.





	Old (Probably) Cursed Wine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missgoldy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missgoldy/gifts).

“Well this is one for the books,” Rick clunks backwards into the dusty wall and slumps down onto a crate that was left here by whichever previous unfortunate was trapped. There’s a whole skeleton curled up by the door so he thinks it was probably that guy, the skeletons in pieces where probably his last meal.

Evy raises a judgmental eyebrow at him, “If you think, Mr O’Connell, that any part of your life would end up in a book I have news for you.”

“Oh really?” He perks up at the challenge, “And what part of saving the world, twice, doesn’t belong in a book?” He’s sitting legs akimbo and watching his wife as she paces the room trying to find the trick exit. He’s pretty sure she’s got this, and he’d just be in her way if he started poking around before she’d had a good look around. Just so long as she doesn’t read any books- surely they’d learnt that lesson by now.

“It’s simple, really.” Her smile is all indulgent flirtation, “It’s too unbelievable.”

“I know I am.” He agrees.

“Not you!” But her grin belays the tone, “the story.”

“About a dashing handsome prince-“ She scoffs and as she walks past him on another round he snags her belt and tugs her into the vee of his legs, “with a beautiful,” he lifts his head up to her, begging for a kiss and she rolls her eyes and delivers, “intelligent,” he gets another kiss, so he pulls her down onto one of his legs, “unparalleled, vivacious,” he gets another and another peck, both worth it, “intelligent-“ he gets a hit on the head and she’s out of his lap. “Owe! Evy!” He whines haplessly.

“You said intelligent twice.” She chastises.

“I can’t help it if my wife is twice as intelligent as everyone else in the world.” He smooths over the gaff easily. If he didn’t mean it, it wouldn’t have the effect it does, but she is pleased, so very pleased, he can see it in the way she glows in the barely lit little chamber they’ve locked themselves in. She’s just not pleased enough to stop looking for a way out. It’s probably for the best even if he’d wanted to get a few more quick kisses in before they got to the job at hand.

“So what do you think, Mrs O’Connell?” He tries, and they both pause at the name. “Yeah, no. I regret it already.” He admits before she can say anything and then she finds a door.

He’s not sure how she did it, there are literally dead man’s bones around the room, but she touches a few things, and then a door grinds open.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells her and kisses her check as he leads the way.

“What if I say no?” Her curiosity warrants an answer so as he shuffles down the narrow passageway, chest scraping against the chiselled rock walls, he gives it due answer.

“Alex will be devastated, but he’ll keep a stern upper lip, but Jonathan will cry.”

Evy makes an agreeing noise and adds as she shuffles in behind him, more petite but still uncomfortable, “Jonathan cries at everything, he’s hardly a barometer.”

“Well Ardeth might cry, and no man should have to see that.” The tunnel opens ahead of him, and he steps out, weapon draw in case but the only thing in the room are a series of dusty boxes. Not crates, more solid, but dusty none the less.

“Oh!” Evy perks up behind him, so he pays attention, but he stows his weapon because it’s her ‘I’ve seen something old and I love it’ oh, not her ‘we are going to die’ oh. He’s heard both with alarming regularity.

“See something good?” He checks because he likes their back and forth. He could stand silently in the room and brood, but why would he when he can experience the thrill of his wife’s cutting wit and sharp mind.

“Here help me open this.” She’s all excitement, so he makes quick work of popping one of the lids up and off. Inside there are ceramic vases and they all look sealed. “This is,” she makes a cute humming noise, “This is wine.” She decides at last.

Rick feels optimistic, he’s in a dark room, he’s with his wife, and the ancient Egyptian gods have smiled upon him with wine. He picks one of the vases up and cracks it open even as Evy says, “there isn’t going to be any-“ but stops when wine splashing over his hands from his rough handling. “That shouldn't be there.” She sounds cautious.

Rick gives it a smell, it smells good. He gives it a taste even as Evy says, “Oh really” but doesn’t stop him.

“Tastes good.” He’s surprised himself.

“It should taste like vinegar, if it had survived the hundreds of years in storage. Which it should not have.”

Rick takes another bold gulp, “Still tastes good.” He tells her.

It takes another few swigs before she takes it off him to try, and her surprise is worth it, because it does taste good. Very quickly they forget about finding an exit themselves, because eventually someone will come looking for them, and carry a few jars up to the main chamber to drink while they watch the door.

Evy falls asleep on his shoulder and it feels just like old times. He slings his arm around her because he can and he thinks about how very lucky he was and still is that she let him into his life.

“Tell the skeleton to go away.” She mumbles into Rick’s collarbone, so he makes a shooing motion at it that it promptly ignores.

When Alex finds them he’s smart enough not to step until the room and let the door close behind him.

“Really,” he admonishes, “it’s probably cursed wine if it’s still good.”

“It’s so so so good.” Evy confirms, and giggles while Rick carries her out of there.

They’ll come back tomorrow for the rest for now he wants to take her home and tuck her into a nice warm bed.

**Author's Note:**

> My only regret is not saying, "This wine ... is cursed."


End file.
